You're My Bad Habit
by kingfalchuk
Summary: Every girl seems to melt under his gaze and at his touch, and as much as I want that, I refuse to be that girl. AU Finchel.


**A/N: **_I'm kinda worried about posting this story because it's the first one i've written in first person. The first chapter isn't very long, but the next one will be if i'm happy with the response it gets. I hope you like it.  
_

* * *

Okay, I'd just like to get things straight. I'm the type of girl who gets everything I want. Being an only child can do that for you. But there's also a downside. And that would be that I'm so _lonely_. I have no one. No brother or sister, no best friends, not even my parents are there for me. It's what I crave. I'm constantly on the hunt for someone I can call a friend, someone who will be there for me when I need them most. Except... I'm a loser at school. Yeah, I get good grades and all that, but no one seems to like me. Or if they do they have a funny way of showing it.

It frightens me when it first happens. I turn in chemistry to see those beautiful amber eyes staring right at me. Then he smirks and I turn away before it can go any further. He's probably only smirking at me like that because I'm the only girl who hasn't had sex with him at this school.

But ever since then it's like he's following me. Every time I turn around, he's there. Or perhaps I'm just paranoid. Whichever one it is, I still appreciate seeing him everywhere. He may be the most popular guy on campus, and the most annoying, but he sure is attractive and even I fantasize about what things would be like between us if his popularity didn't matter.

When I round the corner into the cafeteria at lunch, I see him again, for the fourth time that day. He's staring right at me again, that annoying (yet adorable) smirk on his face. It kinda makes me want to puke and run over there and kiss him all at the same time. I hate him.

I just offer him a particularly awkward smile and turn my attention to the ground instead. It's much more interesting than him. At least I don't have the urge to back him up against the wall anymore. I hurry away before things can get any weirder.

I should appreciate the fact that he seems to be turning his attention to me. I mean, everyone on campus either wants him or wants to be him. But something inside tells me that he's not capable of the relationship I'm looking for. I don't think he'll ever be. He's got a different girl hanging off him every time I see him, but I want something more than that.

Every girl seems to melt under his gaze and at his touch, and as much as I want that, I refuse to be that girl. He's the stuck up jock with a big ego, too many dumb parties to attend and not enough time to focus on things that might actually benefit his life, and I'm... well, I'm just me. And I'm the weird girl with no friends.

* * *

I don't see him for two days after that. Not once. I'm guessing he skips the few classes I have with him. Why though? I have no idea. I'm probably just paranoid again. That happens a lot.

I know it sounds stupid, but I miss him. I've never even spoken to him, but something about just having him there makes me feel better about myself. And now he's gone. Whatever... I was fine without him before.

* * *

I see him again after the weekend, he's back in class. He's late (again) and as he passes my desk, he stops to look at me, like he wants to sit in the empty chair next to me. I really wish he would. But before I can react in any way, he's already at the back of the classroom, bumping fists with Noah Puckerman.

Class is boring, as usual. I guess it's like that when you know more than the teacher does. She kept going over the same thing we'd learnt last week. Though, I'm sure I'm the only one who noticed. I swear everyone else in that class is stupid.

I'm always the last to leave. I couldn't stand to press my body up against everyone else's in the mad rush to get away. There's only one person I'd like to do that with. I need to stop thinking about him. I try to, I really do. But it's kinda hard when he's leaning up against the wall outside the classroom, obviously waiting for me with that adorable (no, really, it's annoying) smirk on his face. I hate him.

As much as I want to stop and talk to him, I can't. I'm socially awkward, he'd probably just run the second I opened my mouth. I hurry past him, keeping my eyes on the ground, hoping he'll just walk the other way. He doesn't.

I feel his fingers on my wrist before I hear him speak. "Hey," he says, and I promptly lose the ability to speak. I said I wasn't going to be one of those girls. Maybe it's too late.

I just stare up at him, my mouth hanging wide open. I nod dumbly and then realise that he's still got his fingers wrapped around my wrist. I watch him as he shoves his hand in his pocket, retrieving a piece of folded up paper. He holds it out for me, and I take it, cautiously. I feel his thumb rub over my wrist before he loosens his fingers. And before I can say anything to him (that's probably a good thing) he's walking down the corridor, away from me.

"Bye," I call out after him, quite stupid of me, and for a few seconds I don't think he actually hears me. But he turns and _smiles_ at me. Not the same as those dumb smirks he's been throwing at me. A real smile; much more personal than anything I've ever seen him do. And all too soon he's turned away, focusing his attention back on the corridor ahead.

After he turns the corner, and out of my sight, I open the piece of paper. Scrawled messily on the lines I can see his name, _Finn Hudson_, followed by his phone number. I have no idea what brought this on, it's probably some dumb joke. Of course it's a joke. He's the most popular guy in the school, and I'm still the weird girl with no friends, remember? And even if it is real (which it can't be), what makes him think I've got enough courage to press dial?

I shove the paper into my pocket, perhaps a little too angrily and rush off to class, secretly hoping that Finn Hudson forgets all about me (even though that's the last thing I _want_).

* * *

Not calling him is the smart thing to do, right? I'm still caught up on the idea that this whole thing is some huge joke and I'm going to get humiliated. It's probably not even his real number. Either way, I can see it ending badly. He's _Finn Hudson_, remember?

I fold the paper back up and shove it into the bottom of my bag. Avoiding him is my biggest goal today. If I can do that, then perhaps he'll think I'm not interested.

Well, easier said than done. As soon as I get out of my car and make my way up to the front doors, he's there. Leaning up against the wall, his hair sticking up in all directions and I can't help it if he looks so _cute_. I look away, there's no way I can let him see that I'm staring at him. _Again_.

I keep walking, slower as I was, but there's still no avoiding him. As I get closer to him, he steps forward, effectively blocking my path.

"What?" I sneer, narrowing my eyes at him and folding my arms across my chest.

"Nothing." That dumb smirk appears again and then he's gone, without another word. He is so strange.

It's not long before I figure out there really is no avoiding Finn Hudson. He's everywhere. I've never noticed it before, but it's like he's following me everywhere.

When I leave the school in the afternoon (long after everyone else), he's there, leaning up against my car. It really is hard to ignore him when he keeps shoving his way into my life. I'm still trying to avoid the fact that he hasn't really left me alone today. I refuse to be that girl. I refuse to be weak, I'm not giving in to him.

I realise I'm staring at him, but to be fair, he's staring right back at me. I try to look away, but he just looks so good in his letterman jacket. I shake my head and turn my gaze to the ground, I'm doing anything to avoid looking into his eyes. It's not really working.

I keep walking, slowly. And I stop right in front of him, the ends of our shoes almost touching. I don't want to look up.

"What do you want from me?" I say in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I wanted you to call me." I know he's looking at me, but I'm not about to look back. "But now I just want to talk."

"Okay." I tell him. "I can talk right now."

He crosses a line by taking my hand, but I don't want to take it back. I like this feeling it gives me. It makes me feel like I'm wanted. Cautiously, I look up, and instantly I know it wrong. He smiles at me and for the first time I feel comfortable enough to smile back. I trust him.

"Do you have time to come back to my place?" He asks slowly, almost as if he's not quite sure of the idea himself.

I really shouldn't. My dads will be expecting me home soon. And I have so much work to get through if I'm ever going to make it on Broadway. "Sure."

He drops my hand and tells me to follow him as we drive. I should just leave him. I should turn down this next corner and forget all about everything, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. I park my car across the road from his house and I spend a few minutes trying to convince myself that this is a good idea. Still, I leave my car and walk towards him.

He places his hand on my back as he leads me inside, we don't speak at all. I'm trying so hard not to be that girl, but every little thing he's doing is making me like him just a little bit more.

He leads me up the stairs, to his bedroom and we sit in silence on his bed for a long time. I'm beginning to wonder why he brought me here in the first place. I notice that he keeps wiping his hands on his pants as if he's nervous, but he has nothing to be nervous about, does he? I should be the nervous one; after all I'm sitting in a strange house with a boy I've hardly spoken to.

I can't even look at him, I'm terrified. I'm about to get up and leave, but he speaks before I can. "Rachel," he says it softly and it's all he says, but it's enough to make me stay. I look up at his face, relaxing a little when he smiles at me. He takes my hand and suddenly I feel more comfortable about being in his bedroom with him.

He shuffles closer to me, but he keeps a hold of my hand. I keep my eyes on the floor; trying to look at anything but him. I can feel his hot breath on my face. I wasn't aware he was that close. I dare myself to look up at him. I take a deep breath and close my eyes just before his lips press against mine. And suddenly, I'm the girl I didn't want to be.

* * *

**A/N: **_I hope you liked it! You know what to do now. :) tbc. _


End file.
